


pull me out of the water, cold and blue (i open my eyes and see that it's you)

by WishingTree



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, also some possible implied amberle/eretria mayhaps, romantic or platonic i dont even know they just care about each other so much i dont even care, s2e01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-16 23:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12353193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishingTree/pseuds/WishingTree
Summary: How Lyria finds Eretria after the troll tackles her into the water.





	pull me out of the water, cold and blue (i open my eyes and see that it's you)

**Author's Note:**

> warning for implied near drowning
> 
> Title from 'Swimming' by Florence + the Machine;
> 
> Hi guys I miss Amberle and also I love Eretria and Lyria.  
> Also we know almost nothing about Lyria's character, but that ain't gonna stop me!

When the last troll has been dispatched, Lyria pulls back on the reins of her horse.

“I’m going back,” she calls out authoritatively, not particularly caring if any of the others are going to protest. If she has to reveal her status as princess to make them listen, then this is the moment the anonymous new life she’s built for herself ends.

“We should get this back to Cogline and report the troll sighting, send out some sentries,” one of the men disagrees, and Lyria nods easily, already preparing to turn her horse back the way they had come.

“That’s fine. You go ahead. But I’m going back for her.” Steely-eyed, she stares him down, and he sighs in resignation.

“At least take this,” he hands her a flare gun, and she nods as she leans to take it, stowing it in her pack. “Send up a shot if you find her, or if you need help. We’ll come meet you as soon as we can.”

Lyria is already turning as she nods, spurring her horse into motion and feeling her hair fly out as she leaves the others behind.

She tracks the distinctive signs of the trolls thundering through the woods, the trail of broken twigs easy to follow, and every moment she doesn’t find Eretria causes both relief and apprehension to grow in her stomach, a sickening swirl she does her best to ignore. She passes the bodies of two dead trolls and smiles proudly, knowing it's Eretria’s work.

Eventually coming across the dilapidated bridge covered with the strange boxy metal things, she pulls her horse to a stop and surveys her surroundings. The bridge is so run-down that they all know not to try crossing it, which means Eretria would have been forced to pick a side and move downwards, across the grass and towards the water. Unfortunately, the trail she’s been following ends, and Lyria waffles uncertainly, keeping control of the horse as it senses her indecision and prances in place.

Trying to think like Eretria, Lyria decides on left, hoping the open space littered with small hills was the right decision. The grass is too uneven for horseback, so she turns and heads back closer to the tree line. Dismounting, she pats her horse once but leaving it untethered. All of their horses are well trained, and if she doesn’t come back within a few hours it will make its way back to their settlement on its own.

Turning, she shoulders her pack and starts to pick her way through the sloping grass. As she approaches the place where the land drops off, her blood goes cold at the thought of Eretria falling into the water.

Picking up the pace, she holds the straps of her pack and starts jogging. “Eretria!” she yells out, hearing her voice echo. There’s no answer except the wind, and she calls out a couple more times, cautious of any unwelcome guests answering instead. She keeps going, pushing her loose hair away from her face and ignoring the memory of Eretria’s hand doing to same thing only an hour ago as she continues scanning for any sign of life around her.

She’s about halfway to the water when she thinks she spots a girl on top of a grassy knoll, slender with long brown hair blowing around her face and the pommel of a sword glinting at her side.

Raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, Lyria squints. The outline of the girl is hazy with light, and something about her makes Lyria feel like what she’s seeing is an illusion. The girl opens her mouth to speak, but her words get lost in the wind. Still, Lyria continues to watch her, transfixed. The girl says a few more words before seemingly realizing that Lyria can’t hear her, and she tilts her head to the side instead.

Lyria has one hand on her knife, always on guard while out in the open, but the girl only raises her arm and points off towards the side, in the direction of the bluffs lining the curve of the water. Swiveling her head to follow her finger, Lyria squints in confusion and turns back, and she thinks she sees the girl smile.

In a slow motion, the girl dips her head, and then suddenly she’s gone without a trace, just as suddenly as she’d appeared. Lyria reels back, rubbing at her eyes and hoping she isn’t going crazy. After confirming that there’s nobody there, Lyria concludes that either the girl must have been a figment of her imagination or she’s gone, and puts her from her mind.

She hesitantly looks in the direction the not-real girl had indicated, glancing back a couple times at the spot she had just been standing. If nothing else, the higher ground will provide her with a better vantage point for her search, so she sighs and heads towards it, wondering if she should chastise herself for following the guidance of a ghost.

She forges on with her search, panic slowly tightening in her chest as she doesn’t find any sign of Eretria, but she continues resolutely, refusing to give up hope. Eretria is nothing if not resilient, and she isn’t going to give up on her.

Finally, she spots a flash of orange out of the corner of her eye, and doesn’t even register that the color is too bright to be Eretria’s more than familiar jacket before she sets off at a sprint.

Scrambling up the slope, she’s out of breath by the time she reaches the top and sees Eretria lying on the ground, looking so small.

“Eretria,” she breathes, falling to her knees at her side. She’s unconscious, wet clothes plastered to her body and hair stuck to her face, but she’s breathing and looks relatively unharmed, and Lyria almost folds in on herself in relief.

“Oh, Eretria,” she whispers, cupping her face and gently rolling her head to face hers. Eretria moves limply, eyes staying closed, and Lyria feels tears start to blur her vision. Flushing even though there’s nobody here to judge her for it, she draws back and wipes at her eyes.

Looking around, Lyria doesn’t understand how Eretria could have gotten here from the edge of the water, even conscious. There’s a sheer cliff face facing the water’s edge, the ground no doubt eroded away over the years, but without gear or the power of flight, it’s an impossible climb.

Turning back to Eretria, she raises a trembling hand to push the wet hair away from Eretria’s face, relieved beyond measure when she sees her chest rising and falling. Keeping one hand on her cheek, she wraps the other around her wrist, feeling for a pulse despite herself. She’s surprised when her fingers brush against something, and she looks down to see a handful of elegant looking leaves on the ground next to her. Looking carefully, Lyria realizes that there’s more of them haloing Eretria’s head, and she reaches out to pluck one out of her hair.

The leaves are a glowing orange, not matching any of the trees common to this area of the kingdom, and Lyria furrows her brow at the sight. “What…?” she twirls one between her fingers, watching the way it seems to glitter in the sunlight. The ones on the ground slowly start to blow away in the wind, and she glances down at Eretria’s face again.

“Wait,” she whispers, balancing herself on her toes and drawing back to scan the ground around them. On Eretria’s other side, some of the dirt is disturbed like another person had been at Eretria’s side before Lyria had gotten here. There are some lines gouged into the dirt next to the undefined footprints, as if the person who had been kneeling at her side had been wearing a sword strapped around their waist.

Except there are no other footprints leading to or from this spot, no drag marks to indicate a path from the water or from any other direction. It’s almost as if Eretria had just appeared here, or had been transported by magic?

Eretria shifts, eyes still closed but face twisting in pain, and she’s mumbling something deliriously.

“It’s okay,” Lyria soothes, running her hand up and down her arm, “It’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re gonna be okay.” Eretria slowly settles, still mumbling, but Lyria doesn’t stop, wiping away the remnants of her already smudged facepaint.

The movement reminds her that they need to get back, and she doesn’t trust herself to carry an unconscious Eretria all the way back when it’s already such a far journey by horseback.

With fumbling fingers she opens her pack and pulls out the flare gun, raising it to fire off a shot into the air. Satisfied the others will be here soon, she tosses it aside and puts her hands back on Eretria, needing to reassure herself that she’s really alive and here.

She combs through her hair, stroking her thumbs across her cheeks, and she realizes that Eretria is repeating the same word, over and over.

“What?” she asks softly, knowing Eretria can’t hear her. The word comes again and she leans closer, putting her ear right next to Eretria’s mouth.

“ _Amberle_.”

Lyria furrows her brow and pulls away. “…Amberle?”

At her side, one of the radiant orange leaves gets picked up by the wind, dancing through the air, and Lyria watches it absently as the arc it flies in almost looks like a wave.

“Who’s Amberle?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you force ghost Amberle, we know you’d move heaven and hell to save Eretria, even as a tree.


End file.
